


Knight in Shining Manacles

by Defira



Series: Mage Dominion [2]
Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Anal Sex, Bondage, Dom/sub, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Oral Sex, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-19
Updated: 2011-10-19
Packaged: 2017-10-24 18:53:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/266725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Defira/pseuds/Defira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A continuation from Over My Dead Body, Garrett and Anders are firmly established in their relationship by the time the invitation to Chateau Haine appears in Act II. During the MotA expansion, we of course were treated to the swoon worthy dialogue where Anders confessed to a fetish involving chains:</p><p><i>"Here I always figured that you'd be the one coming to spring me from someone's dungeon. I had it all planned. I'd be in the Gallows, templars all around, holding the brand for the Rite of Tranquility. Then you'd burst in and break my chains. And then it would be all about the best way to show my gratitude."</i></p><p>Sarcastic Hawke in particular made me giggle when requesting further details from Anders on specifically what would be involved in such a show of gratitude.</p><p>The prompt inevitably made its way to kinkmeme where it sat unloved for a few days... and it was too perfect not to pick up with these two. Anders is just such a delicious dom to write, and poor Garrett tries so hard to best him. Really I just have way too much fun writing them and still can't believe that everyone wants to come along for the terribly silly, porny ride with me... <3</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“No more fancy parties for the rest of my life would suit me just fine,” Garrett said as he slumped into the chair beside the fire. “Next time we get a letter from an Orlesian Duke or an Antivan prince or a Rivaini… actually, I have no idea what they have in Rivain, but whatever it is, if they invite us out to dinner or cheese tasting or griffon breeding workshops or anything else ridiculous, we’re staying home.”

Anders made a sound of weary agreement as he dropped their bags by the door. “You don’t have to convince me, love,” he said draping himself over the back of the chair so that his cheek rested against Garrett’s hair. “I would be quite happy not to leave the house for at least the next two weeks. Three if I can really push Justice’s patience.”

Garrett snorted as he stared into the flames. “He doesn’t have any patience. You’ll be lucky to get two days, not two weeks.”

“Mm, I know,” Anders said absently, his hand resting against Garrett’s chest. Unable to help himself, Garrett reached up and put his hand over his, linking their fingers together. They were silent like that for some time, lying wearily against each other, before Anders inevitably straightened with a sigh, his fingers sliding free almost reluctantly. “Alright, I’ll take our things upstairs. Do you want me to see if there’s anything edible in the kitchen?”

It was well past midnight, and although his stomach was rumbling, Garrett didn’t think he could stand the thought of eating now. “You can have a look for yourself, lov- Anders.” Damn, that four letter word again. Chickened out halfway through. “I’m not hungry.”

He heard the mage chuckle softly as he bent to collect their dusty travel bags. “Liar,” he called over his shoulder.

Watching the flames in the fireplace was hypnotic, soothingly mind numbing in a way that few other things were. He was bone tired, having pushed on well after sunset with the knowledge that his own warm bed was so close at hand, and he damn well wasn’t spending another night camped in a clearing with little more than Anders to keep him warm and the grass for his pillow.

The events at Chateau Haine played through his head, some parts jumbling together as his concentration slipped the closer he edged towards sleep. It was warm, after all, and he was comfortable for the first time in what felt like weeks, and they’d been travelling since sunrise…

He probably shouldn’t have been surprised to find himself drifting off; he fought it to start with, knowing he’d have to drag himself upstairs to bed at some point, but… it didn’t help. He was soon asleep.

Fingers brushed against his face, luring him from the beginnings of dreams, and he smiled without opening his eyes.

“Tsk tsk, messere Hawke.” He felt lips whisper lightly against his cheek, hot breath curling over his skin just enough to make him shiver. “Don’t think that my chivalry extends from heroic dungeoneering escapades and rescues all the way to carrying you upstairs to bed.”

Garrett’s smile widened, unable to help the small laugh that broke from him. “Careful, mage, I had such hero worship for you for a few minutes, and you’re going to ruin everything.”

“Oh, I’m back to ‘ _mage_ ’ already, am I?” The lips brushed against his, a kiss that started out feather light, little sips from each other, until Garrett let out a soft moan and Anders pulled back a little. “Tell you what, I’ll help you a little bit. I’m not carrying you, but I’ll take your shoes for you.”

Garrett drooped back against the cushioned highback, the smile still playing over his lips as he reached up to touch his fingers to his mouth. His eyes were still shut, sleep still rather alluring despite the sexy mage kneeling at his feet and tugging his boots off.

He stretched contentedly when his feet were free of shoes, grasping the arms of the chair to pull himself into a sitting position. Anders seemed to be in a playful mood, putting his hands over his and running them slowly up his arms, keeping him from rising. Garrett smiled, and opened his mouth to say something-

Cold metal snapped around his wrists, and his eyes flew open. Anders was kneeling before the chair, a dangerously smug look on his face and fire in his eyes; his jacket had been discarded at some point, and his hair was loose around his face…

And he had just slipped a pair of manacles around Garrett’s wrists.

Inevitably, panic was the first thing he felt at being restrained, and he tugged on the chains to test their range of movement. His hands moved maybe an inch, if that, before the metal links went taut. He leaned forward, peering over the arm of the chair, to see the chain wrapped firmly around the legs on both sides.

He sat back and tried not to feel wildly vulnerable. “Um… Anders… what is-?”

Anders caught one of his hands and turned it over, placing a kiss in the palm. “I’m here to rescue you,” he said benignly. There was wickedness in his eyes, the firelight turning the amber to molten copper. He was still kneeling before him, but there was nothing demure or submissive about his body language. “After all, I rescued you from the dungeons of the Chateau, and I told you all about my magnificent plans for you, and I’ve hardly been able to touch you for the last week. That was hardly a fair turn of events.”

As Anders ran his hands slowly up Garrett’s thighs, he continued. “And I had sooo many plans for you, love. I always thought it would be the other way around, you riding in to save the day, me fawning over you for days and catering to your every sexual fantasy out of gratitude. So imagine my surprise when our positions are reversed, and all I got was a hurried blow job while Varric was sleeping on the other side of the camp. I was most disappointed.”

Garrett was most definitely no longer sleepy. He knew that look, and he knew that tone of voice, and the both sent flames sizzling through his blood. “Anders, you said that in your f-fantasies-” _Maker take it all, had he just stuttered?_ “- that you were usually the one in chains and I rescued you. Shouldn’t… um, shouldn’t we be doing this the other way around? If you want to… play?”

He hardly got the last word out before Anders was crushing his lips beneath his, lunging forward and kissing him with a ferocity that stole his breath; he was clawing at the arms of the chair desperately when Anders broke away just as abruptly. “In my fantasies, yes, you burst in like some wild warrior god, all flaming eyes and terrible fury as you smite the Templars for me.” Anders visibly shivered. “And you of course snap the chains with your bare hands, before ravishing me there at the scene of your victory-”

“What, in all the gore? Haven’t I just saved you from a torture chamber? Haven’t I just killed a half dozen Templars? There’ll be blood and I’ll probably be wounded and-”

Anders shut him up with another kiss, tugging his shirt free of his breeches and slipping his hand beneath it, fingers dancing over bare skin. “Don’t ruin my delicious sexcapades with your logic,” he growled, tugging his lower lip between his teeth. “If I want to be ravished immediately after, you will damn well ravish me! But that’s not my point for now- my point is that a week ago, I was the one who burst in through the door as the symbol of virile male fury and I got nothing. No chain snapping, no sighing proclamations of love and wonderment at my masculinity, and no ravishing. I cannot tell you how unhappy this has made me.”

Garrett moaned as Anders pressed him back into the chair, half crawling onto his lap as he deepened the kiss. It was not so soft and gentle now… now there was nipping, desperation, wildness, all growing stronger by the second. Garrett wanted nothing more than to throw his arms around him, bury his hands in his hair while he kissed him senseless- but instead his hands scrabbled uselessly, trying to find something to latch onto, trying to find _Anders_.

“ _Anders_ ,” he moaned, trying to express his need, trying to say what he still struggled to put into words, even after all this time.

Anders pulled back, his own shirt a little askew and his lips kiss bruised as he panted for air. “So now, my dear Garrett, we’re going to indulge my need to be the hero and get my proper reward.” He eased himself backwards, climbing to his feet and shucking his shirt in one quick movement. Garrett felt his blood pulse in response, his half hard cock leaping to attention in the confines of his pants at the sight of his lover’s body. The sleek, wiry build, the glorious golden hair that tapered down towards his breeches, as if deliberately drawing his gaze further down. “Because, as luck would have it, you seem to have been captured again- and you’re going to have to beg for a hero to save you, I think.”

Garrett squirmed in the seat, thwarted time and time again by the manacles. He wanted to reach out, touch him, bring him as much pleasure as he could bear until Anders was writhing and desperate… “If you let me go, Anders, I’ll do whatever you want. We can go up to bed and spend as much time as you want doing-”

The mage was on him again, kissing him with a ferocity that was almost frightening. “Prisoners don’t get to make suggestions,” he said between gasps for air. There was a tearing noise, and Garrett would have jerked in alarm had Anders not pinned him so effectively to the back of the chair. He felt the warm air of the room rush over his bared skin as his shirt was torn jaggedly down the front. Anders ripped it in two, his hands following where the fabric had been and wrenching a groan from Garrett at the fingers trailing down his chest.

“Anders… _love_ -” He forced out the word, giddy and terrified as always as it passed his lips. “Can’t we just-”

He let out a strangled cry when electricity sizzled from those teasing fingers, crackling out over his skin until he was writhing from the pleasure and the pain. When Anders ran his hands up his chest, squeezing the bud of his nipple between electrified fingers, Garrett arched away from the chair and into the touch, a half lunge as if he had meant to tackle the mage to the ground. But the chains held tight, and he whimpered, head dropping forward as he gritted his teeth. He wouldn’t beg for release so easily.

“Prisoners do not make suggestions,” Anders reiterated calmly, rolling the hardened bud around for a moment longer before pressing his mouth to it. Then there was heat and the scrape of teeth and _oh Maker_ , was he using electricity with his _tongue?_ “Prisoners can only accept what is done to them, without complaint, until they beg to be rescued. If their pleas are considered to be genuine, if they make them sound convincing, then maybe some rather handsome hero will come swinging through the door to save them.”

Garrett clenched his hands into fists- it wasn’t like he had anything else he could do with them anyway- and forced his feet flat against the floor so that he didn’t scrabble about desperately. He knew this game, this little power trip that Anders was on. Maker, it was how most of their interludes went, after all; it was how Anders had seduced him in the first place all those years ago. But this was the first time he’d ever used props, so to speak, and Garrett felt wildly vulnerable beneath his roving hands and mouth, unable to fight back or touch him or tease him in return.

But Anders, damn him eternally, always seemed to know his mood before he’d worked it out himself. The caresses against his chest turned gently, softly teasing instead of fiercely arousing, and he trailed kisses up his neck and across his jaw, crawling into his lap and turning his chin up to face him. His kisses were slow and drugging, unhurried in a way that made his toes curl against the carpet and his fingers dig into the arm of the chair. Dammit, all he wanted right now was to wrap himself around him, bury his fingers in his hair and tumble on to the floor together. Instead he grew harder in his breeches as Anders kissed him senseless, one hand stroking down the curve of his jaw while the other played across his ribs, little tingly sparks of electricity still dancing between his fingers as he caressed him.

“You,” he murmured from between kisses, “are _mine_. Say it for me.”

“I’m yours,” Garrett whispered, panting for air as his fingers grabbed at nothing. The manacles held firm no matter how hard he pulled on them.

“And I’m the one you need to save you, aren’t I?” His hand slid lower, tracing over his hip and landing on his thigh. When Anders shifted experimentally Garrett moaned, the movement pressing him firmly against his cock; he felt Anders smile against his mouth as he did it again. “I’m the one who is going to rescue you, and who you’re going to lavish praise on out of immense gratitude and arousal for your handsome saviour. Aren’t I?”

He let out a choked sound as Anders somehow managed to crawl even closer in the awkward confines of the chair, bare skin pressed together and his hand slipping- Garrett groaned and jerked his hips upwards involuntarily as Anders slipped his hand beneath his belt, fingers feathering ever so lightly against his cock.

“Anders,” he gasped, wrenching desperately on the chains, “ _this isn’t fair-_ ”

The mage had been nuzzling against the curve of his jaw, but he surged upwards to capture his mouth again, teasing him to open further until he was whimpering again, helpless against his roving hands and brutal kisses. “Did I say this was going to be fair? You. Are. A. Prisoner. I hardly think prisoners get preferential treatment. No, they get… _punished_.”

“Let me touch you,” he rasped, tugging fruitlessly on the chains again. The chair actually scraped forward an inch as he strained, the veins bulging against his skin. “ _Fuck_ , Anders, let me up, you can do anything you want to me, just-”

“What I _want_ , love, is quite simple.” Anders slid backwards and off the chair, hand slipping free of his pants. Garrett panted, dizzy with desire and frustrated with the immense need to touch that was being thwarted at every turn. Instead all he could do was stare, mesmerised as the fire set the sweat on his lover’s skin to a golden sheen. “What I want is to have my way with you, because I believe I’m well overdue for it. And you’re going to lie back and you’re going to scream and wail and then you’re going to _beg me_ to let you go. Because you need me to rescue you, don’t you?”

Garrett swallowed as Anders reached for the laces on his pants, easing them down over his hips with a smirk on his face that was terrifyingly sexy- mostly because he knew what that look meant, what he was in store for. Anders kicked free of the pants, smirk widening as he took his arousal in hand and began to stroke himself slowly.

He dug his feet into the floor and strained at the chains anew, hoping stupidly that maybe he’d weakened them with his early efforts. “Anders,” he forced out, “we _can’t_ have sex while I’m chained to a chair.”

Anders’ eyes flashed and he let go of himself as he stalked closer. It was the only word for it, really. This close, Garrett could _smell_ him, the smell of sex and need and _Anders_ , and he squirmed in the chair as his lover stopped just out of reach. Stretching as far forward as he could, his fingers just brushed against his thigh, skimming over hot skin and soft golden hair; Anders tipped his head back and shivered, a smile playing over his lips as he stayed just slightly out of reach.

“Are you telling me,” he said softly, “what I am and am not capable of? Are you refusing _me_ , your captor and your rescuer, sex?”

The possessiveness made him moan, and the metal dug into his wrists as he strained forward even more, trying to touch him, wanting to lay his hands flat against his skin, run his thumb over the slit in the head of his cock and bring the little drop of liquid to his mouth to taste, to grab him and stroke him mercilessly until he spills into his hand with a cry… but all he can do is graze lightly with his fingertips, bound in place.

Trapped, and desperate.

He bit into his lip, just swallowing back the need to beg. “I’m not denying you, I’m just pointing out that logistically, in terms of, um, ease of access-” _Oh Maker, his face was bright red now, he just knew it,_ “-it’s not really going to happen.”

Anders knelt before him and reached for the laces of his pants, fingers deliberately teasing as he brushed his cock through the fabric. Garrett gritted his teeth, his hips wanting to buck upwards into that touch. “What if I tipped the chair on its back, sending you flying backwards with your legs in the air and your ass exposed, where I could lick and kiss and fuck to my heart’s content? Did you think of that?”

 _Maker._ It was hard to stay rational when Anders started talking like that. “That would be a really awkward angle for you,” he rasped, swallowing past the surge of desire that had locked up his throat.

His cock finally sprang free as Anders tugged down the loosened pants. He lifted his hips to help him tug them all the way down his legs. “Are you saying I couldn’t make it work, my lovely prisoner?” Anders said demurely, taking Garrett’s cock in hand and giving it a leisurely stroke.

Garrett let out a weird sort of keening noise, something desperate and breathy and agonised; his head lolled to the side, resting against the arched sides of the chair as he clenched his fists and fought not to just pump his hips up into that touch. When Anders bent down, a wicked glint in his eyes, his breathing quickened rapidly, breath hissing from him as the mage placed an open mouthed kiss mid-thigh with a flicker of tongue. “I… um, I think that while you’d certainly go about it enthusiastically, it wouldn’t necessarily be comfortable for-”

“Or,” Anders said cheerfully, as blandly as if they were talking about the weather, “I could drag you from this chair, leaving you with your arms pinned above your head while I haul you into my lap on the ground here and fuck you blind. Of course, that would probably chafe your wrists terribly, since you’re so concerned about _angles_ , but I’d have so much more control and really… you’re my prisoner, to torment as I please, so why should I be worried about chafed wrists?”

He moaned, trying not to squirm; oh Maker, the suggestions alone were making him painfully hard, and Anders’ hand on his cock, sliding slowly up and down with almost insulting sluggishness, was not making things any easier. Any minute now and his fingernails were going to start _shredding_ the upholstery of the chair. “Anders… love, _please_ , I’m begging you, I know I teased you back at Chateau Haine when you were talking about chains but please- _let me go_. I can’t… _I need to touch you!_ ”

Anders shushed him with a quick kiss; Garrett moaned at the press of their naked bodies, his fingers latching onto the mage’s hips since he was finally within reaching distance of the chains. He could feel the curve of his ass, feel his cock hard against his stomach. Anders somehow managed to fit himself into the chair, a knee jammed either side of his hips and it wasn’t exactly comfortable, but Garrett didn’t care. He could feel him, feel his heat and the slickness of mingled sweat and pre-cum as he rubbed against him, like some overly smug cat.

“You want this, do you Garrett?” The words were a whispered taunt, almost mocking as Anders made a point to grind down on his lap, their cocks trapped between their bodies. The hint of nastiness was dispelled by the next kiss; as wild and hungry as it was, there was something breathtakingly intimate about the way that Anders cradled his jaw, tilting his head up until the angle was just right while his fingers splayed over his neck. “You want me to touch you like this? Let you touch me?”

“Yes,” he said hoarsely, digging his fingers in as fiercely as possible to the mage’s hips.

Anders pulled away easily, the manacles hindering his attempts to hold onto him. He whimpered at the loss, his cock throbbing from neglect as he wrenched against the restraints anew. “That’s too bad,” Anders said, kneeling before him again. “I don’t think you’ve begged enough for me to think you’re in any real danger. I think that if you were really in trouble, you’d be crying out desperately for some handsome blond avenger to sweep in and save you. Right now you’re just squirming around a lot, and you seem to be fighting your captor rather than begging for mercy… and that just won’t do.”

When he bent down, Garrett was almost expecting him to tease again, to place tormenting kisses in excruciatingly sensitive areas while he smirked and chuckled at the sounds of protest he made. So he had a moment of surprise when Anders forewent his usual teasing routine and instead slid his lips around the head of his cock, taking him into his mouth with apparent enthusiasm for the task.

Garrett let out a sound that was quite possibly not human, gasping and gritting his teeth and heaving against the chains. As the wet heat of Anders’ mouth encased him, he choked on a sob, needy and desperate; Anders didn’t touch him anywhere else, no hands on his knees to steady himself, no dancing fingers to send his pleasure to giddy heights. All he could feel was his mouth, and the swirl of his tongue and _oh fuck_ he keened as Anders swallowed around him, taking him deeper. It was as erotic as it was maddening; all he wanted was to touch him, to play with his hair while he pleasured him, to do _something_ other than just sit back in chains like a captive in his own home.


	2. Chapter 2

“Oh, _fuck_ , Anders.” His hips had ideas of their own, and his lover took it in his stride when he began to push up into his mouth. “Fuck, I give up! I’m begging, please let me go love… Maker, just let me fucking touch you!”

Anders chuckled, which given the position of his mouth over his cock, made Garrett writhe and moan anew. He couldn’t touch him, so he did the next best thing and wrapped his legs awkwardly around his torso, dragging him in closer. It made Anders laugh again, a hum of sound that had him scrabbling wildly and arching upwards.

“Oh, Maker, Anders, you’re so- _nggh_ , ah, love you’re so good at that! Ah, fuck, Anders, please let me up, please let me touch you. There, there you go, I’m _begging_ , isn’t that what you damn well wanted?”

The mage paused in his erotic ministrations, running his tongue along his cock with a mischievous smirk. “You’re not a very good prisoner, are you love?” He finally touched him, hands sliding slowly along his thighs as he placed a kiss on his stomach, and then another on his hip. “You seem to change your mind rather repeatedly- do you want me to save you, or do you want to fight me some more? I can’t tell if you’re my defiant captive or my eager chattel. It’s ever so confusing.”

Garrett gritted his teeth, clenching his hands into fists- it wasn’t like he had anything else he could do with them. “You’re going to be sorry when I get out of this,” he forced out.

“Oh, defiance!” Anders slithered upwards, lithe and far too sure of himself. He climbed back into his lap and kissed him, bodies hot and slick together as Garrett tasted himself on his lover’s tongue as Anders all but devoured his mouth. When the mage broke away, gasping and nipping at his lips, he did not seem particularly in control of himself anymore. “Oh, my love, it makes me all tingly inside when you grow rebellious. It makes me think fondly back to our first night together, and how I broke you down piece by piece. Oh, fuck, Garrett, do you know how much I love it? I _love_ to have you fight me.”

He kept kissing him, breathless little nips that hardly strengthened his argument but, well… they seemed like a good thing to continue with. Maybe he could distract Anders with kisses long enough that he’d be able to seduce him into letting him go. A fool’s hope, but then he was nothing if not foolish when it came to his mage.

“I’ve broken you too, you know,” he rasped, groaning when Anders bit down hard on his lip; when he felt long, callused fingers wrap around his cock he shuddered and tried not the thrash wildly. “You… _ahhh_ , fuck, yes… look at you, pet mage, living the fancy life, following dutifully after me to fancy parties and dangerous missions. And you…. _fuuuuck_ , oh Maker Anders-”

Anders kissed him brutally, pressing his head back so far into the cushioning that he could feel the frame of the chair beneath. “I’m your _pet_ , am I?”

Oh Maker, he sounded _furious_ , but Garrett was hardly in the mood to back down. “Of course,” he panted, ready to see how far he could push this. “My adorable sex pet, whom I lavish attention and gifts upon-”

“Watch your tongue, Hawke,” Anders hissed, eyes blazing.

“Why? Didn’t you have fantasies about me rescuing you, about you being helpless and vulnerable and needing your big, bad warrior to set you free and ravish-”

Anders cut him off with a kiss, bordering on violent as Garrett tasted blood in his mouth from the teeth and the fury of it. “You listen to me, alright? Out there, out in the sunshine of this wretched city, you are Garrett fucking Hawke. You are the darling of Hightown, and the terror of Lowtown. You are wealthy and dangerous and ever so desirable. You are a friend to the Qunari and a slayer of dragons. But none of that matters in here.” He kissed him again, squeezing his cock so perfectly that Garrett had a moment of light-headedness, convinced he was about to come just like this. “In here, in this room, you are _mine_ , and I don’t give a damn about any of those things, because in here you are whatever I say you are. Do you understand me?”

“I do,” he moaned, his hips pumping and the pleasure building and he could feel it, and Anders was holding him so perfectly and he- “Anders, fuck, yes, _just a little more_.”

Just as he was about to topple over the edge, Anders’ grip changed, his fingers coming up to pinch almost painfully on the tip of his cock. Garrett choked, his pleasure skidding to a maddening halt as he felt Anders slide his other hand between them and press firmly just behind his balls. The looming orgasm withered and died and he nearly roared in frustration, lunging forward as far as the chains would allow him. Anders slipped a little, nearly falling from his lap, but he recovered himself and laughed mockingly, nuzzling at Garrett’s jaw.

“Oh, what’s wrong love? You seem disappointed about something.”

Garrett snarled and jerked his head away, panting and squirming and far too tight in his own skin. Maker, he couldn’t believe Anders had _done_ that! “I’m going to _kill_ you when I get out of these chains!”

Anders chuckled, and the hand on his cock turned loving again, tugging slowly against aching flesh until Garrett had to grit his teeth to stop from moaning. Smug git, he wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. “Don’t go making promises you have no intention of keeping, love,” he said delightedly. With what had to be extremely awkward manoeuvring on his part, Anders slipped his other hand even further down between them, until he was pressing against his entrance. “I already promised to punish you… are you trying to sign yourself up for more?”

He slumped against him, forehead pressed into his chest. “ _Maker_ , Anders, I- _nggh!_ ” He tried not to clench as Anders pushed into him with two fingers; it burned and it stretched but fuck if it wasn’t exactly what he wanted. He choked on a cry as the mage twisted about, sliding nearly free before plunging back into him. Garrett felt him rub against his hair, lips brushing his temple in a hint of a kiss. “Anders, let me up, let me up, _please_ … oh, Maker, fuck, yes love like _that_ …”

“Mm, that’s more like it,” Anders purred, rewarding him by tightening his grip on his cock, running his thumb over the head as he matched the rhythm to his thrusting fingers. As Garrett gasped and groaned, Anders rolled his hips against his, the friction and the heat and the sweat quickly growing unbearable again. “Have I broken you yet? Are you agonized and desperate, despairing that you will never be freed of this torment? Do you need a golden saviour to rescue you and make you scream and come like it’s your first time ever?”

“Anders,” he panted, fingers digging into the arm so fiercely that he could finally feel the upholstery fraying beneath his nails, “you have an ego bigger than Thedas.”

His head fell back against the chair as Anders plunged in even deeper, the hoarse cry that passed his lips barely coherent as his lover’s name. “So defiant tonight, my love,” he whispered, mouth brushing over his skin. Garrett turned his face up and Anders rewarded him with a kiss. He slipped his fingers free of him, hands instead going to his thighs as he shifted his weight, as if he were about to attempt to perform some freakish contortions in order to fuck him.

There was an alarming creak, and they both froze; Garrett, however, worked out what it was several moments before Anders. A fierce wave of triumph surged through him and before the mage could stop him, he wrenched hard on the chains again, this time putting in more effort across his shoulders. The metal dug into his wrists as he strained, and he planted his feet to push down hard on the frame of the chair. There was a whine, and for a second he panicked and thought it wouldn’t work, but when he shifted his weight, the chair buckled beneath him as one of the legs snapped jaggedly in half.

Anders went toppling backwards onto the floor as the chair rocked precariously, his eyes widening in what could have been alarm as Garrett surged to his feet, the chains unravelling from the broken chair with ease.

Garrett shook his arms, clenching his fists open and closed as blood rushed back into the abused appendage. The chains clattered noisily, the only sound in the room as he let his gaze come to rest on Anders, lying on the floor before him.

He smiled, showing his teeth. “Hello lover.”

Anders smirked and propped himself on an elbow, trying to make the movement look casual; but there was something nervous flickering in his eyes. “I didn’t realise we were up to the part where you thanked your gallant rescuer,” he said easily, stretching provocatively and letting his hand drift down to his cock. “In fact, had I even had a chance to rescue you at all? Or are you being a naughty prisoner?”

Garrett felt a thrill run through him, wild and predatory and not at all what he normally felt with Anders. “I’ve turned the tables on my captor,” he said, trying not to blush at the outrageous silliness he felt at that moment. “And it turns out I’ve imprisoned him instead. Now I’m going to repay all that was done to me tenfold.”

The mage arched a little, rolling his hand over his cock while he watched him with hooded eyes. “Oh Maker, I hope so.” When Garrett only stared at him, fascinated by the way his pleasured himself, Anders chuckled and flopped dramatically back against the carpet. “Well? Haven’t I been enslaved by my savage captive? Is he going to fuck me blind or not?”

He did blush this time. “You can’t tell me what to do,” he snapped, dropping to his knees and swatting Anders’ hand away from his cock. He crawled over him, the sense of dominance- however fleeting and fickle- rushing through his blood and making him grin wildly. “You’re _mine_ now, and I’ll do whatever I want with you.”

Anders made an eager sound of agreement, tracing his hands over the bare chest above him. “Might I suggest then, my fearsome captor, that you use your formidable strength against me? Otherwise I might escape to fight another day… and we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

Garrett bared his teeth. “Stop telling me what to do!” He fell upon him, kisses brutal enough to draw blood from one of them. He buried his hand in Anders hair like he’d been wanting to do for the last half hour, and then wrenched his head back to expose his neck, nipping and licking down towards his collarbone where he bit down hard on the tender joining of neck and shoulder. Anders writhed beneath him, hands grabbing at his back while one leg went around the back of his thigh, tugging him in even closer. They ground against each other, Garrett biting and sucking his way over his lover’s exposed flesh as a way of venting his frustration, while Anders moaned and cooed encouraging words, with the occasional ‘oh no, I’m so _helpless_ ’ thrown in to tease.

Feeling like he was about to explode, Garrett slid his hand between them and thrust his thumb inside Anders without warning. When the mage bucked up against him with a gasp, rubbing their cocks together, Garrett groaned and pressed his forehead against his. “I want to fuck you love,” he choked, kissing him messily. There was little rhythm left in his movements, just desire and eagerness and such burning, aching need for the man beneath him. Their kisses were wild and without technique, breathing and tasting and devouring one another. “Maker, let me fuck you.”

“Mm, never knew that prisoners got _asked_ for sex,” Anders said, smiling against his lips; despite his cavalier words he was out of breath, whimpering and grinding and bucking against him just as uncontrollably as he was. His hand was between them, grasping at his cock, and Garrett shuddered as he felt the little spark of magic that coated him in slippery grease. Such an odd spell, but Maker was he grateful for it.

He pumped himself once or twice to coat his hand, before running his shaking fingers against Anders’ ass to smooth the oil over him. The mage let out a whining noise, squirming at the touch and for a moment Garrett actually felt like he was the one in charge of this wild little encounter. Emboldened, he knelt between his legs, nudging them further apart before hefting his feet over his shoulders.

Anders’ eyes flew open in surprise, but whatever he saw in Garrett’s expression only made him moan approvingly. “Ooh, Messere Hawke, aren’t you a wild one tonight?”

Shaking from the effort of not immediately plunging into him, Garrett instead began to tease with his fingers again, making shallow little dips into his body until Anders began to shudder and writhe beneath him. “Not a wild one,” he rasped, staring in rapt delight at the flush that overtook his lover and the way his eyes fluttered shut and his hands clutched at the rug either side of his hips.

“Just possessive. I have fun with what’s _mine_.” He pushed in with a second finger and revelled in the way Anders’ hips came completely off the floor. His eyes were shut and there was sweat beading on his brow, his features tight with desperate pleasure that was all too familiar to him… even if he was used to being on the other end of the delicious torment.

Oh, he was enjoying this. His cock felt fit to bursting, hard and heavy and leaking a little, but for once he’d won his place above Anders and to see the mage gasping and whimpering beneath him was heady indeed. He grinned savagely, twisting his fingers just so as he withdrew them and wrenching a choked wail from his lover in the process.

He could grow used to this.

“Say that you’re mine,” he ground out, positioning himself where his fingers had been.

Anders tried to grind down against him. “Oh, you wicked brat! You have me where you want me, just fuck me already! Enough with the evil villain speech!”

Garrett pushed in ever so slightly, eliciting a groan from both of them. “Say you’re mine, or this is all you get.” It was a terrible bluff; he wouldn’t be able to hold strong to that threat.

“Bullshit,” Anders gasped, bucking his hips upwards and trying to take him in further. Garrett couldn’t resist anymore, and he grabbed his lover’s thighs and bent them back even further, giving him greater access as he sank into him. Anders was almost bent double, but the mage didn’t seem to care; if anything by the look on his face he was in a state of euphoric bliss.

Garrett was already too close to the edge, and he began to pound into him mercilessly. If he wasn’t going to win this battle of wills with Anders, he was at least going to get his damned pleasure in the meantime. He bent over him, engulfed by the tight heat of him, trying to keep his ankles over his shoulders and trying not to spill immediately like an untried youth and doing his best to make sure Anders was sated but _fuck_ it was hard to think, hard to do anything…

All that mattered was the firm, clenching muscles that squeezed him so perfectly, the heat of it, the way Anders rolled his hips up to meet him, whimpering and panting and clawing at the carpet, his head rolling from side to side as if he was completely incapable of staying still.

He pumped wildly, the end surging up quickly within him, muscles tightening and coiling in anticipation. He turned to place a kiss against Anders’ calf, gasping and shuddering as he felt it teetering so desperately close; his balls were aching, heavy and close, and Maker, he felt like any second now- “ _Anders_ ,” he choked, all sense of rhythm gone entirely.

Anders had thrown his head back, the sweat on his skin set alight by the flames of the fire, and his body arching so beautifully. “Oh, fuck… Garrett… _sweetheart yes_ …”

The last endearment tipped him over. With a strangled roar, cut off in the vain hope that he wouldn’t wake the other inhabitants of the house, he jerked wildly twice more before snapping taut like a bowstring as the pleasure broke within him. He just had time to see Anders’ eyes go wide with shock, felt his body tense around him, before he was swamped by sensation. They scrabbled desperately against one another, Anders half sobbing on a cry as he wrenched Garrett down and crushed his lips against his. Garrett went willingly, lost and eager for the guidance, groaning when he felt the spill of heat between them as Anders came.

For a few long minutes, there was nothing but glorious pleasure, washing through him in shuddering waves and the feel of being safe and warm and sated in Anders’ arms. It could have been minutes later or it could have been hours later, but he finally lifted his head from his lover’s shoulder and looked up at him blearily. “You,” he said slowly, “damn well better have a key for these wretched things.”

Anders chuckled, stretching languidly; the movement made Garrett slip free from him, the both of them shivering at the last little bit of friction. “You,” Anders quipped in return, “owe me a new chair. That was my favourite chair in the whole house and you’ve turned it into firewood.”

“Mm, what’s that?” Garrett said drowsily, nuzzling at his ear. “My pet mage wants more pretty things for the house? My sex toy wants to furnish our love nest with shiny-”

Anders growled and tugged him back up to his mouth; despite the implied anger from the sound, the kiss was gentle, weary and light-hearted. When Garrett smiled against him, trying not to laugh, Anders nipped at his lip in retaliation, a soft little show of dominance even at the end of all their games.

“Maker,” Garrett said wearily, resting his head on his shoulder again. “I suppose we best drag ourselves up to bed then.”

“Unless you want Orana to wander in first thing tomorrow morning and find us sprawled naked on the floor, then I agree.” Anders placed a kissed on the top of his head, hand running slowly up and down his back as Garrett curled against him.

They were silent for some time, both of them fighting sleep, before Garrett laughed. “What’s so funny?” Anders said curiously.

Garrett pressed his face into his lover’s neck, smirking. “I was just thinking… I hope you wait awhile before telling me anymore of your secret fantasies. I don’t think I could survive another any time soon. This has been quite… educational.”

Anders had to laugh at that too, the sound sultry. “Oh, I have plenty of ideas, don’t you worry love.” He placed his hand under his chin and turned him up to kiss. “I love you,” he murmured softly, feathering his lips over his.

Garrett moaned and let his hand drift up to Anders’ hair. “I love you too.”

He felt the mage smile against his mouth. “And you still owe me a new chair. This sex pet doesn’t perform for free, you know.”


End file.
